I'm Not Like the Rest of Them
by crackship-writer
Summary: Torturing the youth of Degrassi seems to be the new hockey team's favorite past time. When one of them tries to bother Imogen, a certain thick-skulled jock decides it's time for a change. But will he be too late to change the mind of Imogen, who is set on believing that all jocks are jerks?


Senior year was Imogen's time to shine, and she did just that, with the success of the Frostival. When Winter break was over and all the students of Degrassi crowded the halls again, Imogen was given the due attention she deserved. At first it was overwhelming, but at least the kids weren't treating her like crap as they did at her old school. Actually, it was quite the opposite. Everywhere she walked students would pat her on the back and congratulate her on such a successful night. She would try to explain that it was all Fiona's idea and hard work, but they wouldn't hear it and praised her anyway, so Imogen went with it. After all, why should her ex get all the credit?

Over winter break Imogen did a bit of exploring with her sexuality. The last day before break began, a relationship with Fiona seemed promising enough, but when it all boiled down to it, Imogen just wasn't feeling the same. After a few weeks of snuggling with the rich girl at her loft and watching French movies, it became apparent that Imogen thought she liked Fiona as more than a friend when in reality she just really enjoyed the other girl's friendship. Her feelings were just confusing; because she did thoroughly enjoy spending time with the girl and still planned on hanging out with her just the same as she always had, minus all the kissing. While Fiona was heartbroken for the most part, she was able to get over her crazy little schoolgirl crush rather quickly when another fashionista came to town.

Free of relationships and the hardships that came with them, Imogen bounced through the halls of Degrassi without a care in the world. Things were finally going her way; her portfolio was done and set to her top schools, she no longer had to deal with the trials of love from someone complicated, and she had designed one of the best sets Degrassi's drama club had ever seen. Floating on cloud nine, Imogen hummed a silly tune to herself as she looked through her locker for her purple fuzzy notebook, the one that contained a year's worth of mindless doodles. As she was driving to school that morning, she began to wonder what it would be like to be a princess and her mind immediately got to thinking about what her castle would be like. Not wanting to lose the image in her mind, she had to hurry and draw it out onto the pages to remember for the day she would actually get to build the castle.

Just as Imogen was turning around, her notebook clutched to her chest, she noticed a stranger standing before her, wearing one of the letterman jackets all the new hockey players wore. Smirking at her, the boy turned to his other hockey playing friends and let out a little laugh. "Well, well, well, what have we here? Looks like we've finally found us that rare species of animal that no one else has ever seen called Imofreak." Being called names like this was nothing new to Imogen, so she merely rolled her eyes and tried to walk past him. "Ha, ha, very funny, now if you'll excuse me…" she said, but was stopped by this boy moving to stand before her again. "No way, I can't let this opportunity pass me by. You're rare and I want to get to know all about you before you go extinct," he whispered, leaning closer to her as if he might kiss her at any moment.

Angry and extremely offended, she let out a grunt and pushed him away; trying for a second time to get away, but the boy was too fast for her. "No one hits, or pushes, Luke Baker," he grunted, his ego clearly damaged, as he grabbed her arm and forced her to stand in front of him again. Wincing in pain, Imogen bit her lip and tried to get him to let go, but he wouldn't hear a word of it. Instead, he shoved her back against the locker and stole the notebook from her arms. "What's this? Some sort of sketch book where you map out all your weird fantasies?" he teased her cruelly, flipping through the pages and keeping the book away from Imogen. "Stop it! That's personal," she pleaded with him, trying to grasp it from his hands, but he kept it out of her reach. "Oh, even better. Now the world can really see how much of a freak Imogen is." Being used to being called a freak, but having someone torment her for the creativity her mind created was another. Slowly, her eyes began to tear up, though she forced them back as best as she could, so as to not give him yet another thing to make fun of her for.

Just as Imogen was about to tackle this Luke kid to the ground, as she had been mentally preparing herself to do, another figure approached the two and plucked the book out of Luke's hands. "That's enough, Baker," he barked, clearly tired of the younger hockey player's little game. "What, you like this freak or something, Owen?" Luke said, smirking at the older boy, making it clear he wasn't afraid of him, before walking away to be with the rest of his crew. Once he was gone and out of ear shot, Owen turned back to Imogen and handed her the book, a look playing on his face that Imogen just couldn't seem to quite figure out yet.

"Sorry about him. For some reason he feels the need to bother everyone and anyone here. I'm tired of him making a mockery of my school. It's only ok when I do that." Apparently the other senior meant that as a joke, considering that he was smiling down at Imogen now, but she merely glared at him and took her book back, mumbling her thanks. In her mind, all the hockey jerks were the same and if she let Owen talk to her, he might just do exactly what Luke had. Not wanting to get caught up in another mess, Imogen hugged her arms around her body and pushed past him, rushing off to her first class of the day and hoping that she wouldn't run into any of the hockey jerks again. With a sigh, Owen let his arms fall to his side. He only wanted to help Imogen, but that plan seemed to fail as she rushed away without as much as a glance over her shoulder.


End file.
